No? Good. Just checking.
Image by Cool Text
Friday 25 September 2009
Just wondering
Is it sad that I just spent, oh, an hour and a half looking up logo and button making freeware so that I can make cool labels for my knitted items RATHER than actually kntting the baby hat I am supposed to finish and block and wash (and let dry) in time for a baby shower on Sunday?
No? Good. Just checking.
Image by Cool Text
No? Good. Just checking.
Image by Cool Text
Thursday 24 September 2009
The Pelle-Hydraulique Sweater
This was Sacha's birthday present. He knew I was knitting this sweater for him, but due to some yarn shortages, I had to put it on the back-burner for the last month leading up to his birthday, so he managed to forget about it until he opened it. The pattern is from Handknits for Kids, knit in KnitPicks Swish DK yarn (merino).
I feared that after all this work, he would only wear it once. So I made sure to get his 3-year old photos taken wearing the sweater.
I feared that after all this work, he would only wear it once. So I made sure to get his 3-year old photos taken wearing the sweater.
Sacha is THAT kid
Sacha started preschool today.
I know that he just turned 3, and largely speaking, I don't really agree that preschool for 3-year-olds is ncessary. In our case, however, we are sending him to a francophone preschool, where he will interact with other children (and adults) who speak French. This is hugely important to me (and Tony) as I have only spoken to my kids in French since their births. Sacha, for some reason or other, has decided that he is not French. In fact, when we met with his teacher last week for a mini-orientation, we asked him to say "À la prochaine!" (Until next time) to his teacher. He responded "I don't fwench." I then quickly replied to him (in French) that he is TOO French. He then conceded and said "I just a wittle bit fwench."
He understands French completely. There is no issue there. The issue is motivation to get him to speak in French. Hence the preschool at age 3.
The first day, despite being über-excited all morning, was a bit of a gong show. He found his place on the mat, labelled with his name, and sat down. He said "bonjour" to his teacher, and just as I was about to leave, Kees-man in tow, he started to weep. He pulled out all the stops: But I WOVE you! I want stay with you FO-EVAH! I WIKE you so much! Don't WEAVE me!" I told him that I would stay until after the class photos were taken. Sure enough, in every frame of those class photos, Sacha's bottom lip was almost swallowing his head.Once photos were done, he begged me to stay. By this time, Kees was tearing up the school, starting to smell like pee, and I was at my threshold of patience. So I told a small lie:
"Sacha, I would love to stay, but I have no diapers for Kees (not true). I have no snack for Kees (only partially true). I have nothing for Kees to drink (tru dat). I will go home, get the stuff I need, and I will be back to pick you up."
He agreed to this, and his teacher grabbed a little clock and had me move the arms on the clock to what time I would be back. He seemed to understand.
I left.
I came back at the agreed-upon time. He was sitting in a circle with the other kids, huge smile on his face, talking to his teacher. The teacher assistant showed me a photo on her camera of what Sacha looked like about a minute after I left: he was sporting a huge smile. I sigh with relief.
Just as the boys and I were about to leave, the teacher approaches me.
"Does Sacha hit other kids at home?" she asks.
Shit. This can't be good, I think.
"He hit someone, didn't he?" I ask.
"Two kids. I put him in the time-out chair, which I didn't want to do on the first day, but I did."
Damn. Now I have to really think. DOES he hit kids at home? Well, the only kid at home is Kees, and, well, they are typical brothers. There is a lot of hitting (Sacha), biting (Kees) and general wrestling and UFCing. But other kids? No. Kids at the park? No. Kids at the play centre? No. He has not physically lashed out at a kid since being a pinching toddler. Usually, if he is mad at a kid, he turns all red and lets the fiery depths of his 3-year old lungs loose on the other kid. Or finds out what annoys them and does everything to get under their skin. He has a real talent for that. Especially with the young ladies.
I tell his teacher that I will talk about it with Sacha at home. Here is how that conversation went:
Me: Sacha, did you have fun at school?
Sacha: Yeah, Mommy! Lots of fun. I learned lots new things.
Me: Did you play with other kids?
S: Yeah, Mommy.
Me: Did any kids try to take toys away from you?
S: No. I did share.
Me: Did you try and take toys from other kids?
S: Yeah. I ask them for they toys, and they not sharing, so I tap them.
Oh, well at least he's honest.
So obviously, we had the talk about sharing, asking for things, using manners, and what to do if a kid won't share or take turns (talk to the teacher). We even did some practicing of how to ask for a toy or a turn with something and how to talk to the teacher. I guess this is all stuff he would have learned already had he been in daycare. It's not as if he doesn't know these things, but he has never been in a large group of children without Tony or I being there.
I am still embarrased about the whole thing, but I must not be the only mother who has a hitter. When I told my MIL about his day, she just laughed. Normal kid stuff, she said.
Sacha keeps talking about how much fun he had at school, and how he cannot wait to go back next week.
I just hope there is less hitting next time.
I know that he just turned 3, and largely speaking, I don't really agree that preschool for 3-year-olds is ncessary. In our case, however, we are sending him to a francophone preschool, where he will interact with other children (and adults) who speak French. This is hugely important to me (and Tony) as I have only spoken to my kids in French since their births. Sacha, for some reason or other, has decided that he is not French. In fact, when we met with his teacher last week for a mini-orientation, we asked him to say "À la prochaine!" (Until next time) to his teacher. He responded "I don't fwench." I then quickly replied to him (in French) that he is TOO French. He then conceded and said "I just a wittle bit fwench."
He understands French completely. There is no issue there. The issue is motivation to get him to speak in French. Hence the preschool at age 3.
The first day, despite being über-excited all morning, was a bit of a gong show. He found his place on the mat, labelled with his name, and sat down. He said "bonjour" to his teacher, and just as I was about to leave, Kees-man in tow, he started to weep. He pulled out all the stops: But I WOVE you! I want stay with you FO-EVAH! I WIKE you so much! Don't WEAVE me!" I told him that I would stay until after the class photos were taken. Sure enough, in every frame of those class photos, Sacha's bottom lip was almost swallowing his head.Once photos were done, he begged me to stay. By this time, Kees was tearing up the school, starting to smell like pee, and I was at my threshold of patience. So I told a small lie:
"Sacha, I would love to stay, but I have no diapers for Kees (not true). I have no snack for Kees (only partially true). I have nothing for Kees to drink (tru dat). I will go home, get the stuff I need, and I will be back to pick you up."
He agreed to this, and his teacher grabbed a little clock and had me move the arms on the clock to what time I would be back. He seemed to understand.
I left.
I came back at the agreed-upon time. He was sitting in a circle with the other kids, huge smile on his face, talking to his teacher. The teacher assistant showed me a photo on her camera of what Sacha looked like about a minute after I left: he was sporting a huge smile. I sigh with relief.
Just as the boys and I were about to leave, the teacher approaches me.
"Does Sacha hit other kids at home?" she asks.
Shit. This can't be good, I think.
"He hit someone, didn't he?" I ask.
"Two kids. I put him in the time-out chair, which I didn't want to do on the first day, but I did."
Damn. Now I have to really think. DOES he hit kids at home? Well, the only kid at home is Kees, and, well, they are typical brothers. There is a lot of hitting (Sacha), biting (Kees) and general wrestling and UFCing. But other kids? No. Kids at the park? No. Kids at the play centre? No. He has not physically lashed out at a kid since being a pinching toddler. Usually, if he is mad at a kid, he turns all red and lets the fiery depths of his 3-year old lungs loose on the other kid. Or finds out what annoys them and does everything to get under their skin. He has a real talent for that. Especially with the young ladies.
I tell his teacher that I will talk about it with Sacha at home. Here is how that conversation went:
Me: Sacha, did you have fun at school?
Sacha: Yeah, Mommy! Lots of fun. I learned lots new things.
Me: Did you play with other kids?
S: Yeah, Mommy.
Me: Did any kids try to take toys away from you?
S: No. I did share.
Me: Did you try and take toys from other kids?
S: Yeah. I ask them for they toys, and they not sharing, so I tap them.
Oh, well at least he's honest.
So obviously, we had the talk about sharing, asking for things, using manners, and what to do if a kid won't share or take turns (talk to the teacher). We even did some practicing of how to ask for a toy or a turn with something and how to talk to the teacher. I guess this is all stuff he would have learned already had he been in daycare. It's not as if he doesn't know these things, but he has never been in a large group of children without Tony or I being there.
I am still embarrased about the whole thing, but I must not be the only mother who has a hitter. When I told my MIL about his day, she just laughed. Normal kid stuff, she said.
Sacha keeps talking about how much fun he had at school, and how he cannot wait to go back next week.
I just hope there is less hitting next time.
Thursday 17 September 2009
Remember when Sacha was severely delayed in his language?
Well, not anymore. And definitely not delayed in memory skills. Just ask his Pharmadaddy.
Well, not anymore. And definitely not delayed in memory skills. Just ask his Pharmadaddy.
Tuesday 8 September 2009
Sacha-ism for your Tuesday morning
On the merits of homemade jam:
"Real jam is better for us cuz it have nutrients for help us grow."
On Tony's glasses:
"Daddy, yours glasses make you look so isstinguished!"
On the fact that our local drop-in play centre was closed for the long weekend:
"Bummer."
"Real jam is better for us cuz it have nutrients for help us grow."
On Tony's glasses:
"Daddy, yours glasses make you look so isstinguished!"
On the fact that our local drop-in play centre was closed for the long weekend:
"Bummer."
Monday 7 September 2009
Our green thumbs are busy
The husband and I have been really busy this summer with landscaping. While we had professionals do a lot of work that we simply could NOT do ourselves, due to lack of equipment, time and know-how, we still have a lot to do ourselves, particularly in the back yard. My husband recently posted about the whole process on his blog, so I will just link to it here. There, you will also find a link to photos of the entire process, before and after shots, as well as shots of the boys "helping."
Now click away!
Now click away!
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